milliways_bar | Sep. 10th, 2006

Sep. 10th, 2006

Yrael would like Bar to know that when he asked her if she would kindly grant him some fish, he did not mean small, cheddary crackers in the shape of fish.

It is a horrible disappointment, expecting grilled salmon with mint sauce and getting... crackers in the shape of fish.

He thinks them very strange.

But, being always willing to try new things (it turned out he liked curry, after all), Yrael takes the bowl of Goldfish to the couch and comfortably lounges, reading a book on the colonization of North America entitled New Worlds For All. It looks interesting enough.

Goldfish, anyone?

Current Mood: curious

needsnewtoaster.livejournal.com

Orlin is sulking.

He had just gotten back from being all Ascendedy again. And being human, and somewhat limited in mental capacities was annoying to say the least.

Had it given him some perspective?

No, not really.

Just grumpy.

He orders a drink and slumps in his chair.

Current Mood: cold
Current Location: Bar
Current Music: Into Dust, Mazy Star

blue-star-badge.livejournal.com

Why was he up at this hour? Because he'd always had strange sleep schedules ~~and because his mun is in Disneyland and pretending she doesn't have to sleep~~

He was off at one of the smaller tables with a notebook, taking notes, most of which seemed to be random symbols and numbers, looking vaguely mathematical, but somehow looking like some sort of journal entry.

Spoon was nowhere to be found, which likely meant that he was lurking in wait to pounce anyone who came by.

Don't let that deter you.

the_lioness

[OOM: Millitimed to Thursday, Lilly drops in on Adam and Alanna. News is shared, and body parts are groped. Hey, it's Lilly.]

aj_crawley

It's noisier than the amount of people in the bar would really seem to warrant, and there's the faint sound of music drifting from somewhere. It takes Crowley a good few puzzled minutes of watching the bar to work out that it's coming from outside. He is, to be perfectly frank, nosy, and so naturally, he wanders over to stick his head out the door for a look.

A party?

There are people dancing, certainly, and making rather merry indeed, but there seems to be some sort of set-up a little closer to the... ah. A wedding.

Somehow, Crowley is not surprised. He wonders, vaguely, whether setting up a betting pool would count as business in the bar, if he's not actively tempting people into gambl- there's a ship in the lake.

There's a Ship in the lake.

Crowley's mouth drops a little open.

The door to the bar clicks shut behind him, and the grass - a little dry in the lee of the bar - crunches softly under his feet. (The little noises are audible; the music and laughter and chatter from the reception seem unimportant right now, and Crowley tunes them out.)

He's certain enough he's never seen her before, but the lines of her look familiar anyway; the graceful bulge of the bow feels a little like the swelling in his chest - also familiar. She's huge, sleek and dark, and Crowley knows just from looking that she's fast.

His palms are itching.

seker-pride.livejournal.com

Someone's gotten a hold of a DVD player that was lying about and is now watching it...

Some documentary from National Geographic is playing on it and he's watching it with considerable interest.

Why? No idea. He just is.

Well, it's fascinating, so that could be a reason.

If it's yours you'd better come and claim it back; otherwise he'll declare it his own.

Nifty devices technology produces...

Current Mood: enthralled

velocitygirl

Inyri's in the bar, in an armchair, reading a datapad. Her arms, both of them, are wrapped in gauze, and anytime she touches them, she winces.

She's botherable, however.

not-one-drop.livejournal.com

A door opens, and Mal stalks in, running her fingers through dirty hair. Without opening her eyes, "I don't know. Pack what we've got. I can probably find more somewhere."

And then she trips over a chair and catches herself, blinking. "What - Milliways?"

She frowns briefly, then shrugs and heads upstairs.

***

Fifteen minutes later, she's back, in clean clothes and with wet hair, having just showered. Perches on a barstool and orders a coffee, staring into space.

Conversation would likely be a welcome distraction.

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

Arithon is in the bar.

Fully clothed thankyouverymuch.

But anyway. Arithon is in the bar. With an opera score (The Magic Flute, if you're curious) and he's reading through it with occasional humming.

blue_eyed_lord

The Black Rider is like a dark stain among the warm colors of the bar room, a black spot at one of the central tables, where he is reading a book of reports from Jesuit priests seeking to convert the natives of the New World. Their talk of purging the old superstitions with new, true superstitions amuses him, the inaccuracy of the reports even more.

Do come join him for a drink.

Current Mood: amused

jedi-exile.livejournal.com

Kira's in the bar, vaguely staring out a window.

Only it's good staring, not "oh god oh god what have I done" staring.

Poke!

backwardname.livejournal.com

There is a deposition on the bar.

It's slightly smaller than the New Collegiate Dictionary (Paperback) but wider, printed on full legal sheets with very, very small print and loosely bound, and the man reading it seems completely bored by its contents.

Completely and utterly bored. He's even got one eye closed and is spinning the stirring stick in his iced coffee at a speed significant of irritation.

col-cardboard.livejournal.com

[OOM: Millitimed to after this, Jaina goes home and burns a couple of sock puppets. And then Jag walks around shirtless and they make dinner and argue over which holofilms to watch. Yay being domestic?]

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

It's a red letter day. Or at least Mark's production company thinks so. When he left the Building this morning, he was riding his bike, and had his scarf on for the first time since last spring. Clearly, life is as it should be.
The opposite of war isn't peace... it's creation.
He bikes into the bar, parking his bike near the door, and wandering over to Bar. Do feel free to bug him, just dont' touch the scarf. Might have nasty consequences.

yuppie-trash.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways: If you can't join them, you . . . them. Warnings for what is there, and what is not there, with Dean Martin playing in the background.]

He steps into the bar, Patrick is wearing seersucker (Joe A. Banks cotton seersucker in grey-and-white stripe, lightweight favorites are essential for the man who likes classic style at its casual best.) trousers and shirt sleeves (Traveler tailored dress shirt in ecru) rolled past the elbows.

Wearing a plaid-patterned apron. Carrying a stack of dirty dinner dishes, and whistling.

pretty-nagisa.livejournal.com

A light clap of hands comes from a booth, with a smiling teenager sitting before a cup of ice cream, dipped in chocolate topping. With the traditional Japanese thanks, she looks back to the cup with a smile.

Nagisa is inna bar, and looking rather cheerful(then again, when it comes to chocolate, when has she ever NOT been?). Feel free to come by and say hello!

no-real-hero.livejournal.com

This bar's kind of like a lot of other bars Hero's been in, but not for a long, long time. For one thing, weird as it seems, there's guys here, even though she has a hard time believing any of this is actually real. Every day she wakes up with this sneaking suspicion it's all just some weird dream, or that bullet she took in Frisco did more than just graze her neck, and now she's delirious. Half the time she thinks that's it, I've got a fever. It's all just delirium.

And then she looks outside and sees that lake and the green grass and the people there and at the bar, and she knows it's not a dream.

She's just fucking crazy.

And nothing like a glass of whiskey on the rocks to combat the crazies, no matter where in the universe she really is. So she sits at the bar, full glass in front of her, tracing a finger across the bar's surface. It's a comforting thing to do... for right now.

seeks-sixfinger.livejournal.com

Inigo is at a table. He's currently bent over a ledger--pirating isn't all fun and impressive hats.

There is no excuse for the icon, except for the writing assignment that is breaking the mun's head, which is the same excuse for the entrance post.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

The less said about the three full moon nights just past, the better; Wells certainly has no real desire to remember them, one way or the other. About the only good thing to come out of the whole wretched mess is his wife's stories about taking Arithon shopping in London, and even that's only going to sustain a fellow so long.

For some reason his self-imposed vegetarianism is biting down extra hard today- possibly because it's hard to find any kind of beer that'll go with Turkish aubergine pilaf. Possibly not. Either way, he's looking very much as if he could do with someone to come along and give him a reason not to eat this stuff, at least for a little while.

attic-girl.livejournal.com

Fuchsia has spent most of her time lately outside. It's likely because the weather has finally started to cool down. Summer is, in her opinion, far too hot to do anything other than sit in her room and fan herself.

Today, she's out by the lake again, half walking half dancing along the shore and humming softly to herself. Although if you listen closely, you'll probably hear her talking to herself, too.

fat-charlie.livejournal.com

Fat Charlie is in the bar again, sipping an orange-juice. There's also a couple of bread rolls on the plate in front of him.

He's sitting by the window, basically minding his business. But he is certainly open to company.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton's sat in a booth, looking slightly floppy and tired, cigarra in mouth, shuffling a deck of pazaak cards absent-mindedly, while his socks slump next to him, looking altogether a bit miffed at the whole situation.

Botherable.

singlesoledjest.livejournal.com

Mercutio is either feeling very depressed or very bouncy, because he's currently walking on his hands across the rafters.

You have two options of interaction with him: you could either throw things like a savage, or wait, like a civilised person, until he either falls off or is forced to come down.

capt_angie

How long has it been since Angelina was in the bar? 2? 3 weeks? Sounds about right. But she is here now (and I know you've all missed her terribly) and sitting at the bar with a bottle of Butterbeer and a piece of pumpkin pie. She has a copy of the Daily Prophet open in front of her on the bar, opened to-what else- the sports section. The page she is reading at the moment is taken up with an article about the Holyhead Harpies new player, just in case anyone is curious wnough to peek over her shoulder.

giftedthom.livejournal.com

*Thom, who is out of the loop, hasn't been to any parties. He's sitting at a table by himself instead, arms crossed, looking thoughtful.*

politestpirate.livejournal.com

So. One tired, former british officer in the bar. Wellard has quite commandeered a table, and is paging though some repair notes as he finishes his dinner.

Doom, in other matters, has thankfully been averted, so he is in a cheerful mood as well.
This is the closest I'll go to a minimalist post, really.

lvpd_sidle

[OOM: Mark takes the chance to observe Sara in her natural environment. Rated G for geek.]

vegetarianvamp.livejournal.com

Inari is sitting at a table with a glass of coke, a large spicy vegetarian pizza and her laptop. She's working on some things for the business, but at the same time, she has The Sims running in the background. Or, not so much in the background as the case may be. Her Bobby sim is currently working out while her Inari sim is playing on the computer. IT'S JUST LIKE REAL LIFE!

http://users.livejournal.com/_romana_/

The front door swings open, and a Time Lord sails into the room regally.

No, it isn't the Doctor, too short for that.

No, it isn't Ace, too blond and steady for that.

It is Romanadvoratrelundar, and she looks most annoyed at her sudden change of location. Brushing long blond hair out of her face, she turns and gives the door a particularly nasty look.
"Well bother all, I've only just come from here, It really isn't necessary to drag me back so soon. There are things I need to accomplish, you know."

arjiki-diamonds.livejournal.com

Fiyero is sitting out at the lake, shirtless and practicing some form of defensive art that his tribe had taught him bits of.

Really, it's more relaxing than it looks. It helps him centre the thoughts he's been having the past few days. Thoughts about Elphaba, about Jack ... and really, about himself.

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

Angela enters the bar tonight wearing jeans and a t-shirt, her hair up in a ponytail, with books and notes and laptop.

It doesn't take her very long to begin work. She occasionally checks a book or two, then goes back to writing.

She'll be happy to stop work at any time and chat!

This place tends to get her creativity going.

e_delmar

Ennis...

Well. He's on the couch, back by the fire. There's a (soft, western) blanket over him, and he occasionally glances at the door, before going back to his coffee.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy is sitting near the trilobite tank, glancing over some paperwork. Mainly test results today; he's been doing some lab work.

He somehow managed to crawl out of bed this morning, although having been fed considerable quantities of alcohol last night this was not the easiest of tasks.

Occasionally he refers to the text book next to him, just trying to make sure he hasn't missed anything.

He's botherable.

shufti

Shufti is standing near the trilobite tank, holding Jack to let him see the pretty squiggly things swimming around.

The baby doesn't appear to be having any of that. It's definitely not full pneumatic-drill-volume crying, but still enough to give the poor girl a headache.

A distraction may be just what is needed.

plant-alchemist.livejournal.com

Central is quite a busy place and Janet has enjoyed it immensely. But a couple weeks away from Milliways can seem like one too many, especially when it's the only place you've lived for more than a year.

Russell, on the other hand, was quite happy back home and looked upon returning to Milliways as a chore. He still has research, after all.

Janet drops her bags by the door, looking back at her host/lab partner/one-time tour guide.

"What do you say we get some iced tea?"

"That would be great, thank you."

smallestopener

OOM: Earlier this week, there was a tea party in the House of Arch, with Quinn, Amy, and Ingress with Tom making a guest appearance.

underdarkangel.livejournal.com

There is a post on the bulletin board and it reads thus in a flowing elvish script.

:To all Bar patrons I am currently looking for a training partner to assist with my rehabilitation.

Any form of martial skills would suffice, tracking or evasion skills would be appreciated as well.

If you are interested please speak to the Drow ranger Drizzt Do'Urden, or my companion Guenhwyvar, The very large black panther who is currently wandering around the Bar.

I thank thee in advance,
Sincerely Drizzt Do'Urden.

P.S. My companion is in a pouncing mood, be wary where you tred.:

The aforementioned Drizzt is sitting in a booth with a clear view of the bulletin board sipping a glass of wine, and rubbing his shoulders where it looks like a wound has recently healed on each.

maxwellsdemon02

The door opens, and Duo steps into the bar. He's wearing a holey t-shirt and faded jeans, and has a tooth brush sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Blinking for a moment, he catches the door on a bare foot to keep it from shutting.

Shoving the trash can in between door and frame to keep it open, Duo vanishes for a moment and then reappears minus toothbrush and plus a pair of flip-flops.

He has a seat at the bar proper and leans against it with a long sigh. It's been a while, and a busy one at that. He orders a drink, and despite the unpleasant bite the lingering flavor of mint gives rum, he's thinking about having a few more.

legendaryoutlaw.livejournal.com

Three muns. At least 4 neglected pups. All regretful as to lack of post time lately.

Beginning at the door to the bar...

--------------------

The door flies open, and a hot wind blows into the bar. A man in red whirls around and slams the door shut, then turns around--and his eyes light up like the twin suns he just came out from underneath.

"Hey! The weird pop-up-anytime-it-wants-to bar!"

Vash pauses for a moment... then blitzes Bar. "Whiskey!!! Please, if you've got some whiskey--and perhaps a glass of water--you'd be my ultimate hero! I mean, you already are, but--"

To shut up the babbling outlaw, Bar gives Vash a whole bottle of Wild Turkey and two glasses, as if to say Good to see you, too. Go talk at someone who can answer.

So Vash looks around the bar for someone to annoy...

--------------------

Corran watches the whole seen in a rather relaxed amusement. He'd gotten in earlir in the day, and was just people watching in a booth of his own.

Doesn't look like he'd mind company...

--------------------

There's also one rather distinctive drow sipping wine and people-watching while monitoring the post he has placed on the bulletin board. He looks like he wouldn't mind a friend or two...

--------------------

There's also a panther roaming the bar. Current location: Unknown.

Beware big kitties...

--------------------

And in this corner...one Alchemist from Amestris and one doctor from Earth, currently reading over notes from the past week. Turns out there are more similairites between both worlds than they thought before.

Wonder how much like their worlds yours is... care to find out?

[One post + Five pups + Three muns = Recipe for total perplexion. So if you'd do us the favor of IMing first, or specifying who you're looking for, we'd be intensely grateful. Merci!]

the_antiangst

Angel... got Mark's camera, with dinner.
And a note, saying Mark went to visit Sara's crime lab... but still. Angel has Mark's camera, which means Mark does not have it.
Which makes this a red-letter day; it's the first time Angel knows of that Mark willingly left his camera behind. (Leaving it in the loft when he had rocks in the head doesn't count; that was so the music talking.)
So: Drag queen with a camera, thinking. Feel free to interrupt.

mortisbelle.livejournal.com

Medieval Lady.

Bar, Booth.

People-watching.

Dressed (to the disappointment of some) in elegant white silk robes.

Come praise her performance from the other night. Or just strike conversation.

stilljustandrew

*The front door opens and in comes Andrew, tucking a wooden stake into his coat pocket and dusting off his sleeves.*

*Business as usual, in New York.*

stbethadettes

There's an empty and inviting couch, and just steps from the stairs, Beth sneaks wary sideways glances to the left and then the right before hurrying over to claim it before anyone else does.

Once there, she shamelessly sits and takes over a good half of it, then smiles winningly at the rat that comes over to wait on her. They never used to approach her before she started looking for one, but hell, maybe they want to stay on the good side of heavily pregnant chicks. Tonight she can certainly deal with that.

"Fetch me a pickle milkshake." She smirks. "Just kidding. That sounds fucking awful. How about a plain chocolate one instead?"

She watches the rat head for the kitchen, then leans back and lets her eyes close for a moment.

forbiddensailor.livejournal.com

[OOM: It was just a normal morning. Something must be wrong.]

Hotaru Tomoe was actually on her way home from school.

"What a beautiful sound," she says aloud, eyes closed in enjoying the tune.

This song someone is singing by our... she opens her eyes.

.......house.

The lake laps against its shore silently in front of her.

She shifts her bookbag up on her shoulders. She blinks at the lake. Then she looks up at the night sky, full of stars.

With a heavy sigh, she turns towards the bar, a slightly more welcome sight right now.

"When..." she starts to ask aloud, then stops. She opens the bar door and says, dryly,

"Tadaima." [I'm home]